


Master of None

by Smackofjellyfish



Series: Doctor Who Romance [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: F/M, Romance, Smut, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-18 21:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12396168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smackofjellyfish/pseuds/Smackofjellyfish
Summary: This story is a direct sequel to “Eight, The Magic Number,” which described how a woman named Violet came to travel with—and love—the Eighth Doctor. This time, it’s her friend Sam’s turn. Same coffeeshop, same monsters. Unfortunately for Sam, the Time Lord she encounters is a little less, well, charming.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place shortly after The Doctor Falls, the Series 10 TV season finale that included both Missy and the Simm Master. Spoilers, and a little leeway with canon—at least as we know it so far... 
> 
> (I have no idea how to explain the Simm Master encountering the Eighth Doctor. Timey-wimey and all that, and the Eighth Doctor lost his memory so often, I’m sure he’ll just forget about it at some point, anyway).

The Master rubbed his temples, his head aching as it had been off and on since… Since whatever Missy had done to him. How had she done it? He knew she had stabbed him, right before he shot her, but she had clearly injected him with… something, as well. Something he definitely didn’t want. _Why_ had she done it? Was this an effort to change her timeline? Had she turned so completely to the Doctor’s side that she was willing to jeopardize her own existence to force him to turn—ugh— _good_ , as well? Apparently she had.

It had worked, whether he liked it or not. Partially worked, anyway. Whatever she had injected him with had stopped him from regenerating (into her— _why_?) and had also removed something from him: most of that dark, murderous inclination to control, destroy, and kill. Not quite all, he thought, as he glared at the young child staring at him from across the coffee shop. The child burst into tears and ran to its mother. But most.

He still felt like killing half of creation most days, but more as an idle, abstract thought, as if they were all just very annoying. He knew, somewhere inside himself, that he would not actually do it. The Time Lords had released him from the drumming noise that had made him go mad, right before they kicked him out of Gallifrey. And now Missy had removed that one other thing that had set him apart from other Time Lords: evil.

Oh, and she had stranded him and his TARDIS on Earth, as well. That was the worst of it. How she had managed to sabotage his TARDIS from a distance was a mystery, but he had to admit that the future (would she still have a future?) version of himself was probably smarter than he was. So now he was stuck on Earth, with his TARDIS camouflaged and serving as home base, but unable to go anywhere.

And with this godforsaken headache. It had been getting better over the past weeks, but not fast enough for his taste. It made him extremely crabby, which he suspected was still not a good thing for those around him. Not that anyone was around him. He lived in solitude— _definitely not sulking_ , he just preferred to be alone—except for his daily trips to the coffee shop. He didn’t actually like coffee, that disgusting human drink. But every day he choked down a mug so that he could sit in the one place where his headache vanished entirely. Sit and watch _her_ , if he was being honest. He didn’t understand why his headache did not appear when he was in the shop, or why he felt pulled toward it or to her, but here he was.

Stuck on Earth. Had he mentioned that?


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was busy with the full morning rush at the coffee shop, although Lord knows her mind wasn’t on her work. She’d already managed to spill hot coffee down the front of her shirt—the one day she wasn’t wearing black, of course—and burn her hand. This was obviously going to be an  _ excellent _ day. 

She kept thinking about the postcard she had received in the mail yesterday from her friend Violet. Her friend who had been missing for several weeks, whose job Sam had taken over in order to try to save it for her (and let’s be honest, because the whole freelance writer thing wasn’t going so well), and who had by all appearances just sent her a postcard from… space?

The postcard had been covered with about a hundred stamps, none of which Sam recognized, and had an image on the flip side of some sort of fish-like creature in a pink ocean. There had been a short note that said, “Sam: Don’t worry! I met a man and we’re seeing the universe. If you see a blue box that’s bigger on the inside, that’s me and the Doctor. Take my place at the coffee shop, you never know what might happen there...”

It had to be a joke, right? Although if such a crazy thing could happen to anyone, it was Violet. They had been friends forever, Violet short, brunette, and always daydreaming, Sam taller, with flaming red hair and a temper to match. Both of them bored to death and unsatisfied with their lives so far, with only each other to confide in. And now Violet was gone. 

Sam sighed. There was no sense in feeling sorry for herself. She had always been practical, and if she was unhappy with her lot in life, she would just have to look for an opportunity to change it. Maybe she would finally travel. Find some adventure. She missed her friend, though. With no one to confide in, she admitted to herself, she was lonely.

So here she was, coffee stained, her best friend apparently flying through space with a doctor in a box, while she tried not to get fired from said friend’s job for being too distracted. 

And then there was the man. 

He looked particularly loathsome today, she thought, sitting there sipping his coffee and making faces. Why order coffee if you didn’t like it? It’s not like they didn’t serve anything else at the shop. Or better yet, he could  _ go somewhere else _ . He was creepy. Maybe in his forties, so several years older than Sam. Dirty blond hair. Scruffy, goatee beard like some sort of old Hollywood villain, black coat with the collar up. Handsome for sure, but sort of… debauched. And his eyes: dark, angry, scornful eyes that frightened her more than she wanted to admit. She could feel them on her even as she tried not to look.

Sam sighed. She was developing an overactive imagination, just like Violet. He was just another creep who had nothing better to do. She had better get her mind back on her job.


	3. Chapter 3

As Sam trudged her way back to her apartment that afternoon after her shift, she did her best to keep her long red hair out of her eyes as it blew around in the blustery day. That was all she needed, to be blinded by her own hair, wander into the street, and get hit by a car. But it was a vain effort in this wind, so she did not see the arm snake out from the alley and grab hold of her hand. She gasped as she was yanked off the sidewalk and pressed against the wall of the alley by… the man from the coffee shop.

“Be quiet! Don’t move!” He commanded in a distinctly English accent.

Sam kneed him in the shin as hard as possible, eliciting a grunt and a murderous glare from those dark eyes. He tightened his grip on her.

“Let me try this again, human,” he hissed, “Do. Not. Move. I am not going to hurt you, but that thing out there will.”

Sam was thinking that she would definitely rather try her luck with an unidentified thing on the sidewalk than with a creepy pervert in the alley, when she caught sight of the thing in question: Taller than an adult person, metal, and with several waving arms projecting out from its body. Its eyes were red and glowing.

She gasped and held still. It slithered past the alley along the sidewalk, and when it was out of sight she turned back to the man still holding her wrists.

“I think… I think you can let go of me now,” she managed to say.

He sneered at her. “I probably _can_ , but _will_ I?” Sam prepared to knee him again—this time somewhat higher up—but he suddenly released her and grabbed a… screwdriver? Yes. A light-up, beeping screwdriver, which he waved around in the general direction of where the metal thing had gone.

“It’s turning around.” He grabbed her hand. “Come on, human, run!”

Suddenly they were running through the alley, and then another. Sam briefly wondered if this was some sort of bad dream when she caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a small storage container up ahead, the type you might park in your driveway in preparation for moving house. And then a door opened on the side of the storage container and she was pulled through and into an enormous room.

She was positive the man had pulled her into that small container, so where had this room come from? It looked like some sort of steering room on a boat, but with metal everywhere and weird round things on the walls. It was modern and gleaming and rather cold. Then she realized something. Sam closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Wait. Wait. Is this… bigger on the inside?”

“Got it in one, smart human!” the creep said snidely.

Sam said the first thing that came to mind. “But it’s not… it’s not… a blue box.”

He stared at her, and she recognized in his eyes a mixture of astonishment, anger, and… fear? He grabbed her arm and pinned her with that dark stare.

“ _What do you know about a blue box_?” He ground out.

“What? Nothing! Nothing. Just… my friend disappeared several weeks ago and I just got a postcard from, um, space? Maybe? Saying she was traveling with a doctor in a blue box that’s bigger on the inside.”

As the words tumbled out of her mouth, Sam realized just how insane she sounded. And just how insane it was that she was standing in an enclosed room, however large, alone with the creep she’d been trying to avoid at work for the past several weeks. A man who had pulled her forcibly into an alley, albeit to save her from a… whatever that was.

He stared at her for a few more seconds, then burst out laughing. Rather hysterically, Sam thought.

“Oh Gods,” he gasped, “Of course. That’s why she sent me here. Of course I would end up on Earth, in the _Doctor’s_ coffee shop, with someone whose friend is _attached_ to the Doctor. No wonder I was drawn to go _there_. Of course! Time Lord energy. No headache. Recharging. Right.” He was laughing so hard Sam could see tears in his eyes from where she was standing.

“Yes, well,” Sam muttered, “Glad to amuse you, but I really need to be going. I’m late for… something. Yes. Late.” She felt behind her for the door and backed quickly out of the room before he could react.

Immediately she felt ropes—Arms? _Tentacles_?—around her throat and waist as she was pulled back across the sidewalk and lifted several feet in the air. From her vantage point, she could see that the tentacles were metal, and the thing lifting her was easily seven feet tall. It was the thing she had seen from the alley. As she struggled against it the tentacles tightened around her throat and she felt increasingly lightheaded. She tried to keep struggling but it was as if the energy was being sucked out of her.

Suddenly an explosion flashed past her eyes and she saw the coffee house creep burst through the door of the storage container, screwdriver in hand. _Oh great_ , Sam thought, _a perverted English creep with the least helpful of all the tools is my savior. This is perfect._

“Let her go.” He commanded in an icy cold voice, and Sam felt a frisson of fear run down her spine at the tone. He sounded… terrifying. Deadly. Light blasted once more out of the screwdriver toward the arm that held her, and suddenly she was falling, hard, to the ground. Gasping for breath, she looked up and saw that the metal arm had grabbed the man’s hand and shaken the screwdriver out of it. Another arm had wrapped itself around his throat as he pulled futilely at it.

Shoulder throbbing where she had fallen on it and still gasping for air, Sam dragged herself toward the screwdriver. The creep glanced over and saw what she was doing.

“No!” He gasped. “Just run! Run!”

Oh, sure, Sam thought, _now_ he’s going to be a decent person. She kept dragging, her eyes on the creature, whose attention was firmly on the man it was now strangling.

“Where… are… they…” A strange metal voice emitted from the monster. “Where… are… the… children…”

Sam finally felt the cool metal of the screwdriver in her hand, just as another tentacle swung her way and grabbed her ankle. As she was pulled forward toward the monster, she aimed for its eyes and pressed a button on the screwdriver. A blinding ray of fire shot toward body of the monster, and Sam was thrown back. She covered her head as metal pieces of the monster rained down, thoroughly exploded.

When the pieces stopped falling, Sam carefully sat up. Burning metal bits covered the ground in the alley, and a larger heap lay smouldering a few yards away. She slowly got to her feet, wincing as her shoulder twinged. She saw the man lying nearby, and rushed over to him.

“Hey! Hey! Wake up!” _Oh God, if there’s anything worse than a strange British creep it’s a_ dead _British creep…_

“Gods,” he muttered, “Just leave me here to die in peace. Do us all a favor.”

Sam nudged her with him foot. “Wake up! Are you ok?” She waited as he slowly pushed himself up to his feet, then grabbed him under the arm as he faltered. “Hey, I’ve got you.”

He shot her a skeptical look, then sighed. “TARDIS.”

“Excuse me?”

“Let’s get in _there_ ,” he jerked his head toward the storage container. “And I’ll be fine.”

As they made their way through the door and across the large room, Sam mused, “You could use some chairs in here.”

He scowled and shook his head. Sam shrugged and they continued down a hallway to what appeared to be a study or library. Completely devoid of decoration, books were piled in every corner of the room, papers covering every available surface. He sat heavily on a chair, elbows on his knees, and closed his eyes.

Sam sat down on a nearby couch and gasped a little as her shoulder twinged. Immediately, he was at her side—the man could certainly move fast, especially for someone just throttled by a giant metal monster—glaring intently at her with those angry dark eyes.  “Are you badly hurt?” He demanded. “Why didn’t you say you were hurt?”

Sam stared at him. “No, I’m fine. I’m fine!” she insisted, thinking that those eyes of his could probably burn holes right through her skull. “I just fell on my shoulder. It’s fine.”

He lay a hand on her shoulder. “Um,” Sam said, “I’m not sure… I didn’t mean… What are you doing?”

“Shut up, stupid human, I’m not trying to feel you up. Not yet, anyway,” he smirked. “I can help.” He slowly rubbed her shoulder with his hand and Sam felt the pain melt away.

“How… how did you do that?” Sam asked.

“Oh, it’s just a matter of getting into your mind and removing the pain.”

“Wait, what? In my mind? How about if you _don’t_ get in my mind. Creep!” Sam pulled away.

He rolled his eyes. “You humans are so sensitive. I’m not going to make you do anything, and I’m not controlling your mind. I don’t… I don’t do that… anymore.” He suddenly looked very tired, and leaned against the back of the couch, eyes closed.

“Thank you, by the way. For… for saving me,” he said in a low voice. A rather sullen voice, Sam thought.

“You’re welcome,” Sam couldn’t help but smile at how annoyed he looked. “After all, you saved me first. But… can you maybe explain what’s going on?”

He opened his eyes, bottomless dark pools. Sam saw anger in them, but also a fatigue almost impossible to bear, and sadness. And, maybe, loneliness. Sam certainly understood that emotion, and she felt a sudden compassion for this strange man.

He rubbed his hands over his face. “Ok. Fine. Short version. I’m not from Earth. I’m a Time Lord, and we travel through space and time in… ships. Like this. It’s called a TARDIS. Unlike _some_ Time Lords’ TARDISes, mine can disguise itself as inconspicuous objects, which is why it looks like a storage container. My name is the Master.” He stopped and glared as Sam covered what might have been an impolite snort.

“Another Time Lord, the Doctor”—he all but spat the last word out—“must have been here at some point. Not long ago; I can feel it now. It’s why I was drawn to the coffee shop, I could feel another Time Lord. Something must have happened with the Osminog.”

“Those metal creatures,” he said as Sam gave him a questioning glance, “Ugh, you humans know nothing. They send out smaller scouts that are telepathically linked to the larger hosts. Most likely something happened to a group of scouts—I’d guess it was the Doctor—and now the hosts are here looking for them. They’re obviously dangerous, and apparently I’m going to to have to do something about it because the _Doctor_ has abandoned his own mess, as usual. And I’m stuck. My TARDIS can’t take off, and the Doctor is nowhere to be found. _Gods_ , I am _not_ enjoying being the good one, here! Why do I have to be stuck on this stupid plant, cleaning up the Doctor’s mess?!” His voice rose until he was all but shouting.

Sam listened to his ranting, and threw him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean the _good_ one? Are you… are you like the bad guy to the Doctor’s good guy?” She smirked. “Because I can totally see that. You as a villain. I mean you’re not exactly, um, wholesome.”

The Master looked insulted. “What do you mean? I was under the impression that I’m quite attractive.”  

“Modest, too,” Sam muttered. But she had to admit, when he wasn’t being creepy, he really was quite good looking. Magnetic. And he _had_ saved her. She shook her head. _Stop it._

“Anyway. Yes. Yes, you could say that I was the bad guy. I had… a sickness. No. That isn’t right. I was evil.” Sam shivered at his tone. She could believe at that moment that he was, in fact, evil. “The other Time Lords did something to me to make me go insane, but even after they removed it, I was still… Evil.” His eyes burned into hers. “I was evil. I killed. It was always the Doctor who helped. I destroyed.”

Sam swallowed nervously. “So, um, if you’re evil… Why did you save me? Why are you helping now?”

The Master put his head in his hands. “I _was_ evil. Someone… close to me changed that. She did something to me that removed my urge to kill and destroy. I don’t understand it. I am still me. Still… what did you say? Unwholesome.” He smiled wryly. “But apparently I ‘get’ to be good now, or as good as I can be. And since I’m the only non-stupid non-human person around, as far as I can tell, I suppose I get to fix this.”

There was a long pause.

The Master leaned back against the couch. “So, now is the part where you burst into tears and run away, right?” he asked snidely.

Sam ignored the snark—she supposed she would probably be doing quite a lot of that as long as the Master was around—and considered him for a minute. She shook her head.

“If you had told me any of this a few days ago I would have smacked you—and _not_ cried—and left you to your own weird crazy-man problems. But I know my friend Violet, and I… I know what she said in her postcard is true. I’ve seen those metal things. And this… TARDIS. This is all true. I believe you.”

The Master held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. He pulled himself up out of the chair, rolled his shoulders, and cracked his neck loudly in a most unappealing way.

“All better! So glad I’m not human and so… ugh, fragile.”

Sam stared at him, then shook her head. Probably not worth being antagonized by what was likely one of his less insulting remarks.

“Hey,” she cleared her throat, and stood. “Thanks for coming out of the TARDIS and saving me. I thought I was done for. That was brave, and kind of you, especially considering you used to be, um, evil, and… well, thanks.”

Sam suddenly found herself pushed back against the wall, wrists held tightly on either side of her head by the Master. His eyes bore into hers, a mocking half-smile on his lips.

“I am _not_ a hero. Don’t make me out to be a good man, or some sort of savior. I’m not.”

“Um, ok…” Sam said cautiously. “I didn’t mean to imply that you are… good?” She felt as though she had lost the logic of the conversation. He was… insulted? Angry? He was also awfully close, pressing against her. He was taller than she had expected, a couple of inches taller than she was, and his body felt… strong. Powerful. Dangerous. “I definitely don’t think that. I don’t think you’re good at all. In fact, I’ve thought you were a creep for weeks. Probably a pervert, too.” _Had she really said that out loud?_

The Master smirked and lowered his head toward hers. “Oh, you have _no_ idea.”

He crushed his lips to her mouth, and Sam felt her bones dissolve. He pushed her mouth open with his tongue, demanding access, demanding that she yield. But she refused to remain passive, pressing herself just as insistently against him, kissing him back with an intensity and enthusiasm that surprised her. _What was she doing_? It appeared to surprise him, as well. He groaned and dropped her wrists, gripping her waist with both hands and pulling her even closer. She gasped as she could feel his immediate hardness pressed against her.

Sam could hardly think, her insides liquid as she felt completely enveloped in his presence and obvious desire. It was overwhelming and all-encompassing, as if she could feel his desire mixed with her own, as if they were joined, two stars merging and burning exponentially hotter. She heard him groan again, more roughly, as he released her lips and pressed his mouth to her neck. He bit her softly on the tender flesh. She shivered and leaned against him. He put a hand up against the wall to support them both.

“What… the… hell…” he muttered against her neck.

He slowly raised his head and met her gaze, his eyes smoldering with longing and desperation, and a dark confusion that made Sam shiver again.

“As if I don’t have enough problems, without being seduced by a _human_ ,” he croaked, and then recovered enough to smile sardonically. “I suppose there may be worse problems to have, though. If I’d known humans felt like this I’d have tried this long ago.”

Sam blinked at him and straightened her spine. “You really are a charmer, aren’t you? Are all aliens as disgusting as you?”

The Master grinned. “You’d have to get off this tiny planet to find out, wouldn’t you? Anyway,” his smile faded. He took her hand and looked into her eyes. “I have the disturbing notion that experimenting with other humans wouldn’t work. You, Sam, are unique, and no one else would do.”

Sam stood utterly still, stunned by this sudden show of romanticism. His eyes held hers for a long moment. He turned her hand over and pressed his lips to her palm. Then suddenly he turned away.

“Anyway,” He said commandingly, “We have monsters to catch.” He turned his head toward Sam. “Are you coming or not?”

Sam took a deep breath. The monsters seemed like the least of her problems.


	4. Chapter 4

In the control room, the Master paced, muttering. “Ok, a plan. Save humans. Do not blow up planet.”

Sam eyed him nervously. “So, what exactly are these things?”

“The Osminog. They are mostly robotic creatures who feed by draining energy from other life forms, and then eating them. Usually they’re harmless, and feed of off, I don’t know, plants. Little baby animals. Whatever. They send out scouts—smaller robots—to see if anything edible is available on a planet. They place a mark on whatever is, and then the Osminog follow in order to feed. The Osminog call the scouts their ‘children.’ ”

“ _Mostly_ robotic?” Sam asked.

“Well, it’s a little unclear whether or not they include some sort of sentient life form.” The Master waved it aside. “Anyway, I’ve had dealings with them before, so I’ve studied them quite extensively. I used them to… Well, nevermind,” he broke off. Sam raised an eyebrow but let it pass.

“Occasionally, I’ve… heard,” he cleared his throat, “the scouts decide that a more advanced life form, such as, well, humans, for example, are an appropriate food source. They mark them, immobilize them, and then the parents… you know,” he finished hastily.

“I am not even going to ask how you know about this,” Sam said.

“Yes, well,” the Master continued, “My best guess is that, since I know the Doctor was here and he can never stop himself from meddling, he discovered the Osminog children, who had likely already marked something—or someone, considering that the Osminog seem particularly hostile to humans right now—and eliminated them. And now the Osminog are not only wondering where their dinner is, but they’re really angry at their scouts being destroyed, as well. It’s unlikely that the Doctor recognized that what he was chasing were the children, not the Osminog themselves, or I doubt he would have left. They’re quite rare, and few people know much about them. But _really_ , he should have done his homework! He always was quicker to be the savior than to be careful,” he concluded in a frustrated voice.

“So, what’s the plan?” Sam asked.

“Well, we’re going to need help.” The Master stopped and rubbed his forehead. “Gods, she really should have just killed me,” he muttered.

“I’ll have to send a signal out to the Doctor. He’s always scanning for signals. The Osminog are, as you’ve seen, rather a lot for one person, even a Time Lord, to handle. But two of us…” His eyes suddenly lit up, and he looked happier than Sam had seen him. “Two us of can do anything.”

The Master looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes. Yes, this is the way it should be.” He began flipping switches around the console, typing something into a keyboard, and pressing buttons. When he was done, he pointed at Sam.

“And you are going to stay safe. No getting into trouble. No being grabbed by robots. You are staying here in the TARDIS tonight.”

Sam was so startled that she laughed. “Are you crazy? No! I’m not staying here. I am not staying in an alien spaceship disguised as a storage container, with a strange man, while we wait for another strange man to come save us all.” Sam thought she sounded a little overwrought, even to herself.

The Master strode over to her and grabbed her shoulders. He pinned her with his now familiar stare. _Those eyes should be illegal_ , Sam thought.

“You are staying here,” he said angrily. “The Osminog are out there, waiting, and they’ve seen you. They know you. They go after what is familiar. They can’t get inside the TARDIS, but you will not be safe anywhere else.”

“Why do you care?” Sam asked. “I’m just a stupid human. What does it matter to you what happens to me?”

The Master closed his eyes. “I… don’t know. But it matters. I won’t have you hurt. I won’t allow it.” He lowered his hands.

Sam ran a hand through her hair. “Look, I don’t want to be attacked by alien creatures, obviously. And I appreciate you trying to protect me. But,” she sighed. “It’s just been a long—and very weird—day. I’ve met one alien man and apparently I’m about to meet another. I’ve been attacked by robots. It’s all a little much. I just want to go home. Just be home, just for a little while. I’ll be careful, really.” Suddenly Sam felt very tired, and very out of her depth. She did just want to go home.

The Master her looked at her, and sighed. “Fine. You can go home. But I will take you there, and I will stay with you. I _will_ keep you safe until this is resolved. Do not argue with me!” He nearly roared as Sam opened her mouth to protest. He glared at her for a long moment, then grabbed her hand and pulled her close, devouring her lips in a hungry kiss. He placed his hands on the back of her neck and slid his thumbs down her spine. Sam shivered.

He raised his head. “There, feeling a little more cooperative?” He grinned and pulled her outside before she could argue.


	5. Chapter 5

As they walked, the Master kept them to the alleys as much as possible. His face was closed and tense, and he was muttering about “stupid humans.” Sam tried not to roll her eyes, or kick him. _He’s helping_ , she told herself. _He can’t help being a creep_.

She started to wonder if perhaps she had been foolish. Maybe she should have stayed with him in the TARDIS. He was an irritating man, but for some reason she trusted him. _He’s also an amazing kisser_ , her brain offered, unhelpfully.

They were only a block or two from her building, and Sam felt herself relax. She would be able to spend at least a few hours at home, hopefully regaining a little equilibrium in preparation for whatever might come next. And she would find some way to keep the Master out of her hair while she did so.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, a metal arm grabbed her waist and jerked her into an adjacent alley. She heard the Master curse, heard his footsteps following. She was lifted high into the air, and again felt the energy sap from her body.

“Where… are… the… children…” Sam head the terrible metal voice. “We… are… hungry…”

She struggled harder, and realized that the metal arm was extruding some sort of green slime. The more she struggled, the more the arm wrapped around her and covered her with slime.

She heard a sharp crack and saw sparks as the Master approached and aimed his screwdriver at the monster. Sam was flung—hard—into a corner of the alley, dirt and garbage sticking to the slime on her body. Every bone in her body hurt from the impact. Then she was lifted again by another arm, higher, and to her horror she was placed on a building ledge a couple of storeys up. The monster turned its full attention to the Master, who ran into an adjoining alley, drawing the monster away as it followed him.

Sam heard shouts and the sounds of electrical sparks from the direction he had run, and then silence.

She looked down from the ledge, her slimey hands slipping where they grasped the wall. She could see two more Osminog advancing quickly from around another corner. Cold fear settled in her stomach. She couldn’t get down, and she couldn’t see the Master. Maybe the monsters had killed him.

Then suddenly he was running around the corner into sight, looking wildly around.

“Master!” She called,”Up here!”

He looked up at her and she saw concern and fury in equal measure reflected in his eyes. “Stupid human! This is your own fault! Why don’t humans ever do as they’re told?”

Sam wanted to hit him, but she also wanted to get off of the ledge and not be attacked by the robots, who had advanced almost to where the Master was standing.

“Jump!” The Master commanded. Sam looked at him as if he had lost his mind.

The Master growled in frustration. “I will catch you. Now _do as I say_.”

Sam looked at him, looked at her slippery hands barely gripping the wall, and at the ever-nearing monsters.

“Sam,” she heard the Master call more softly. “Trust me. I will catch you.”

She looked down one more time, then jumped.

He caught her easily, much to her surprise, swinging her lightly down onto her feet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down another alley. They ran quickly toward her apartment building, again keeping to the dark alleys, the Master cursing her under her breath the entire time.

They finally reached her building and Sam unlocked the door with shaky hands as the Master glared at her. Once inside, she closed the door and locked the deadbolt.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam had never felt more filthy in her life. Dirt was everywhere, and she could feel the weird alien slime in places she didn’t want to think about.

“Um, make yourself at home, I’m just going to jump in the shower,” she called to the Master, who had stalked off and appeared to be poking around her kitchen.

In the shower, Sam took her time, noting the many parts of her body that felt bruised and battered. Once she finally felt clean, Sam threw on sweatpants and a tank top. She was definitely not going to take any time with her appearance for the creep. _The Master_ , she snorted. God, what a pompous name. How appropriate. _But he saved you_ , her brain answered.

She walked into the living room, and found him seated in a chair reading a magazine. He looked strangely formal—very _British_ —sitting there. He looked up as she entered the room, his eyes devouring her. Sam belatedly realized that being underdressed and braless in a flimsy tank top—not to mention _damp_ —was perhaps not the off-putting look she had been going for.  

“I thought maybe you’d drowned in there,” he mocked, his eyes continuing to roam her body as she sat on the couch next to his chair. And then suddenly he was next to her, his eyes angry and fierce as he looked at her skin. Sam froze. He was so close that she could feel the heat coming off of his body.

“You have bruises all over yourself—why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?” He demanded.

“Well, I thought maybe getting out of there was more important than a discussion of my injuries,” she retorted. “They're just bruises. I’ll be fine.”

“You humans are so fragile, you could have _died_.” He swallowed. “Sam, when I saw that you were in danger again, I felt as if I would destroy this whole planet if I had to to save you. I haven’t felt that way in some time, and certainly not because of another person. _Definitely_ not because of a human.” He paused.

“I was watching you, these past weeks. In the coffee shop. Every day I ordered one of those disgusting drinks so that I could sit and watch you. It made me feel better. You made me feel better. It was the only part of my day where I felt almost… normal.” His eyes filled with confusion. “You make me feel… _good_. I don’t understand any of this, but… I refuse to lose you.”

Sam thought she saw something like fear in in his eyes. He took a deep breath and traced her lower lip with his thumb. “Whatever this is, I don’t want it to end. And I _will_ protect you.”

 _Oh dear_ , Sam thought. _A bad boy with a heart_. _I am in so much trouble_.

“I think maybe…” She said. “I mean, I’m not even sure I _like_ you,” Sam shook her head as the Master raised his eyebrows. “But I feel like maybe I’ve been waiting for you. It’s the strangest thing. Can you be waiting for someone you’ve never met?”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, both lost in their thoughts, and then the Master lay one hand on her arm over the largest bruise. “Hold still.”

Sam started. “Wait, more mind control?”

“I’m very good at this. Just hold still.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “Fine,” she said, “But just for the pain. Nothing else.”

The Master smirked. “I don’t know, I bet we could both have some fun with that.”

“Seriously, what is wrong with you,” Sam muttered.

He chuckled, and then grew serious. “Nothing that a kiss won’t help.”

And then he was kissing her as if he was starving for her, as if he was afraid she would disappear. He pressed her back on the couch and pushed a leg between her thighs. Sam struggled to maintain her equilibrium, but the feel of his lips was overpowering. He felt so good, and tasted delicious. He tasted like…

“Have you been drinking my bourbon?” Sam pulled back.

The Master looked unabashed. “You took a very long time in the shower!”

Sam sighed and shook her head. Then she shrugged and kissed him back. The world stopped, and for several minutes there was quiet as the two explored each other, her hands running up and down his back until he groaned and pressed his weight more firmly into her. She turned her head as he ran his tongue over her collarbone. She shuddered.

“Gods, Sam. What is this, what are you doing to me?” The Master asked.

She pushed him back upright and unbuttoned his shirt. She lay kisses down his chest, and pressed her cheek to his skin. Then she looked up at his face. His head was back, eyes closed, and he was breathing heavily.

“Um, why does your chest sound like you’re having a heart attack?” Sam asked nervously.

“Oh, that,” the Master smiled. “I have two hearts.”

“Of course you do. Why wouldn’t you have two hearts? That’s not weird at all,” Sam sighed.

“Don’t worry, it’s normal for Time Lords, and it gives us a lot of stamina,” he winked lasciviously.

“Ok, it is _definitely_ time for you to shut up,” Sam retorted, and she shoved him onto his back on the couch. She heard his sharp intake of breath. “What, turnabout’s not fair play?” She asked.

“On the contrary,” he breathed. “Please do continue. I love a dominant woman.”

Sam laughed and kissed him again. He ran his hands along her sides to her hips, scorching through her thin shirt.

“I’ve had enough of these clothes,” the Master said, “skimpy though they may be.” Before Sam could think he had pulled her tank top over her head and pushed her sweatpants down from her hips. “Remove them,” he commanded.

Sam arched an eyebrow but quickly complied, then returned the favor by unbuckling his pants. The Master groaned at her touch, and sat up. “Sweet lords, I can’t stand this.” He quickly removed his pants and shirt, and swept Sam up into his arms. As he carried her to the bedroom he kissed the top of her head. “Sam, Sam… You make all of this almost worthwhile.”

Sam tried to apply her brain to figuring out what he meant, but then he was laying her on the bed and pressing his weight on top of her. He captured her lips again, ruthlessly demanding more. As he broke the kiss to take a breath he grabbed her hand and guided it down to grasp his hardness. He closed her hand around him and he let out a deep guttural groan.

Sam smiled wryly. “Don’t tell me you’re a selfish lover,” she teased.

“Well, I _told_ you I’m evil,” he smiled wickedly. “But here, how’s this.” He took the tip one of her breasts in his mouth and she arched back, unable to speak. She heard him chuckle, then groan again as she raked her fingernails down his back.

“Yes,” he gasped. “ _Yes_.” And suddenly he was parting her legs with his knee, and burying himself deep inside her. Sam felt that same merging of their energy as she wrapped her legs around him, driving him deeper into her.

His breathing was ragged as he drove himself into her, building a rhythm, joining their two bodies more closely than Sam would have thought possible. He kissed his way down her neck, then recaptured her lips to swallow her moan as she shuddered in almost unbearable release. He broke away from the kiss only as his own release came with a rough moan. He collapsed on top of her, an exquisite weight, and she wrapped her arms loosely around his back.

After some minutes he silently rolled to his side and pulled her to him, tucking her close against his body, one arm protectively over her side.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam woke some time later and rolled over to see the Master standing by the window, looking out at night falling. He was fully dressed, including his black coat and boots. When he saw her lying naked on the bed, sheets somewhere on the floor, she thought his gaze would set her—and possibly the bed—on fire. Then he turned back to the window.

“He’ll be here soon,” he said quietly. “I can feel it.”

“Do you think he will help us?” Sam asked.

There was a bleak look in his eyes. “Yes. He always helps. He’ll even help me. I don’t know why, but he will. Don’t worry, Sam, I will make sure you are safe.”

Sam frowned, but her thoughts were interrupted by a strange wheezing sound outside. The Master immediately strode toward the door, leaving Sam to quickly throw on clothes and follow. When she got outside the Master was standing some yards away from what looked like… Yes. It was. A blue box, one that Sam was positive had not previously been located on the sidewalk outside of her apartment building. The door swung open and two figures emerged.

She recognized Violet waving excitedly at her, then saw the man standing beside her. He looked like something out of a romance novel, a nineteenth century hero complete with velvet coat and shoulder-length hair. No man had a right to be that beautiful.

“ _That’s_ the Doctor?” Sam exclaimed. “But he’s so… He’s… Wow.”

The Master turned slowly to glare at her.

“I mean, um, it’s just… He’s just… He’s a Time Lord too, right? But he doesn’t look like you. At all.” She finished lamely.

“You have got to be kidding me,” the Master growled. “It had to be _that_ face.”  Sam recognized the murderous look in his eyes, having seen it so many times by now, but also saw… Jealousy? Hurt? She grabbed his shoulder.

“Hey. He just didn’t look how I had expected. That’s all,” she said. Then she smiled. “He _does_ look exactly like _Violet’s_ type, though. She always liked the pretty ones, and I liked the bad ones.”

The Master put a hand to her chin and tilted it up to meet his gaze. “Just remember that, Sam.” His dark gaze was so intense that Sam thought she would combust on the spot. The Master moved his hand to the back of her head and captured her lips roughly. Sam felt branded. He deepened the kiss, forcing her mouth open, until Sam forgot where she was. Then he broke off the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Remember that. _I_ am your Time Lord, not him. Never him.”

Before Sam could work out the meaning of that cryptic statement, Violet and the Doctor approached, both goggling at what had no doubt seemed a rather intimate and inappropriate display.

“Well! Yes, hello!” The Doctor greeted them, perhaps a little too brightly.

Violet hugged Sam as the Doctor and the Master circled each other warily. Violet whispered excitedly, “See? I told you! You never know what might happen in that coffee shop!” Sam smiled at her friend, and quickly filled her in on what she knew about the Osminog.

“Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry! I had no idea that there would be more of those creatures—let alone bigger ones! The Doctor didn’t know, either. He will be so mad about that,” she added. “He doesn’t like it when he doesn’t know something. I’m sorry for the danger,” Violet said earnestly. “But… it’s worth it. Isn’t it? It’s worth it for them.” She gestured toward the two Time Lords.

Sam considered the Master, who looked like he couldn’t decide whether he wanted to shake hands with the Doctor or punch him. The Doctor had begun chattering at him as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Yes, I suppose it is,” Sam replied.

“I can’t believe of all aliens in the universe you got the Master,” Violet continued. “The Doctor has told me nothing but awful things about him! But I guess… the Doctor said he claims to be different now? Is he really?”

Sam thought for a moment, and said, “Yes. I guess he must be. I’m not sure I’d call him _good_ , exactly, but I trust him. I trust him with my life.” _And maybe with my heart_ , she thought to herself.

“Well,” Violet took a deep breath. “That’s a relief. He does look like he could be trouble if he wanted to.”

Sam smiled. “Yes, he certainly can be.”

The Doctor turned to the two women and waved them over. “Come on, come on! Let’s adjourn to my TARDIS.” He walked briskly through the door of the blue box, the Master shaking his head and following behind.

Violet smiled at Sam. “We’d better go and make sure they don’t do anything _too_ crazy.”


	8. Chapter 8

Once inside the Doctor’s TARDIS, Sam stopped dead and stared around the control room. While the Master’s TARDIS was sparse, metal, and unadorned, she now found herself in some sort of steampunk Victorian fantasy room. Around the metal columns and whirring machinery were oriental rugs, overstuffed chairs, candles, and—best of all—a sitting area with what looked like a fresh pot of tea on the small table.

“Wow,” she whispered, as the Master rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Sam couldn’t help adding, “See? Chairs.”

The Master grunted and turned away.

The Doctor strode toward her and took her hand in his, lifting it to his lips. “Welcome, my dear. I am so glad to meet Violet’s dearest friend. I hope that you will make yourself comfortable as we work out what to do about our little problem.”

The Master cleared his throat and appeared to be considering throttling the Doctor.

Violet quickly interrupted the Doctor’s welcome. “Hey, why don’t we all sit and have some tea, and discuss what we plan to do about the Osminog?”

She took the Doctor’s elbow and guided him away from Sam. “What?” He whispered loud enough for Sam to hear. “I’m just trying to put everyone at ease!” She patted his arm and led him to a chair, then seated herself next to him.

The Master strode toward Sam and grabbed her hand. He pulled her to a chair and onto his lap, clamping an arm around her possessively. She threw him a warning look, but he only glared at her.

The Doctor stared for a moment and then grinned. “Well! Isn’t this nice. My goodness, how things seem to have changed. Or will change. I believe you are a future Master to me, yes? Well, I’m the one who saw your signal, so I guess we’re a little out of order. No matter.” He chuckled. “Anyway. Let us decide what we shall do. I simply cannot believe that I made such an error in believing that the Osminog children were the only danger.” He clucked his tongue.

“You always were one for acting rashly and then disappearing,” the Master said snidely.

The Doctor’s warm expression briefly turned cold as ice. “I have always tried to do my best for those in need. We can’t all have your more calculating, or shall we say,  _ self-interested _ talent for schemes.”

Sam quickly broke in. “Do we know where their home base is? A place where we can find them and keep them until they can be... removed?”

“Removed?” The Master exclaimed. “Sam, they tried to  _ kill _ you. I would destroy all of the Osminog in the universe if I could.”

The Doctor looked appalled. “But they may be sentient creatures! You cannot simply destroy them.” He shook his head. “No, we must secure them and call for them to be removed.”

The Master was silent for a long moment, and then said only, “The large warehouse by the river. My scans show that they congregate there at night.”

“Right,” the Doctor said. “We will need to go to the warehouse as soon as possible and secure the Osminog in the building. I will call the universal guards and arrange to remove them from this planet.”

He stood and grinned at the group. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”


	9. Chapter 9

The warehouse was an enormous wooden structure. It sat in the dark, no windows or lights breaking up its large, dim shape. The wind had died down, and the night was silent. Next to warehouse’s one door stood a large old oil tank, rusted and leaning against the wall. As the Doctor, Master, Sam, and Violet moved closer, they could just barely hear a low electrical humming.

“The Osminog,” the Doctor said with satisfaction. “They have congregated for the night. Good. It appears that there is only one door, so this may be easier than we thought. We can bolt the door from the outside. It is unlikely that they will emerge until morning, but just in case…”

Suddenly the door swung open, and several Osminog loomed in front of them.

“Where… are… the… children…” The familiar metal sound carried through the night air. Red eyes glared at them as the Doctor moved in front of Violet and Sam.

“Get back! We’ll have to draw them inside if we can and bolt the door.”

As Violet grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled her away from the building, Sam saw a metal arm snake around the Master’s leg.

“No!” She shouted. She pulled away from Violet and ran toward the warehouse. She saw the Master fall on his back and be dragged into the warehouse. The door began to shut as the Doctor tried to stop her from running into the building. She dodged around him and darted through the door..

Inside, she came face to face with the Osminog who holding the Master high in the air. He struggled, but she could see his energy being sapped until he could only gaze at her in horror.

“Sam,” he pleaded. “Run _. Please run._ ”

Sam ignored him, looking around the warehouse wildly. At least a dozen Osminog were inside, all of their glowing red eyes fixed on her. As they advanced, she saw the Master’s screwdriver where it had fallen near the door. She ran to grab it, aiming it at the Osminog holding the Master, and pushing as many buttons as she could.

Sparks flew off of the lower body of the Osminog, and thick black smoke billowed from where it has been hit. It dropped the Master hard onto the floor, and wrapped an another arm around Sam, pushing her back against the wall of the warehouse. Smoke surrounded her until she could barely breathe. Coughing, she felt the arm squeeze her, the pressure almost unbearable. Through the smoke and the pain of the Osminog’s arm around her, she could barely see where the Master slumped on the floor.

Sparks flew again as something shot at the arm that held her captive. She was suddenly raised high into the air and thrown back against the wall, her head hitting the hard surface. She fell in a heap, still coughing from the smoke. Desperate, she cried out for the Master. They could never survive this amount of smoke for long.

“Sam, it’s me, the Doctor.” He stood above her, screwdriver in hand. “Violet has the door. Let’s get you out of here, and quickly!”

“No!” She struggled against his hand as he pulled her up. “I can’t leave him!”

“The Master is resourceful. He will find a way to follow, and if he doesn’t, I promise I will come back for him.”

Still struggling, Sam was half pulled, half carried by the Doctor out into the cold night air and some distance from the warehouse. Once on her feet, Sam felt intensely dizzy and her head pounded. Coughing, she turned toward the warehouse. Black smoke poured out from the door and she was unable to see inside.

“The Master!” She cried. “We have to help him!” The Doctor nodded, still holding Sam upright as he turned toward the warehouse. Violet stood next to him, looking worried.

Before the Doctor could start back toward the building, they saw the Master emerge from the smoke and struggle to bolt the door behind him. Sam nearly sobbed with relief. He turned and looked at her across the distance, and she blurrily saw him take in her soot-covered clothes and barely conscious state as she leaned heavily on the Doctor. Sam thought he as he strode toward them that he looked as if he would willingly destroy the entire universe. He raised his screwdriver.

“Master, no!” The Doctor shouted. The Master aimed his screwdriver toward the oil tank and suddenly the building was engulfed in explosive flames, the Osminog trapped inside. As he reached them he pushed the Doctor out of the way, scooped Sam up in his arms, and headed toward his TARDIS.


	10. Chapter 10

A little while later, Sam sat in a bed in the Master’s TARDIS with three worried people looking at her. The Doctor had just finished scanning her with his screwdriver, nearly blinding her with the light in the process.

The bedroom was simple but strikingly comfortable. Considering the spartan nature of the rooms clearly decorated—or not—by the Master himself, Sam wondered if possibly this one had been the work of the TARDIS itself? Or maybe she had hit her head harder than she had thought.

“I’m fine!” She insisted for what felt like the twentieth time. “I feel much better. I just really, really want a shower.” She felt encrusted in soot—and still a little dizzy, not that she intended to let her friends know that. They were worried enough already.

The Doctor sighed. “All right. Why don’t we give Sam some privacy so she can get cleaned up, and then we’ll scan her again. Sam, please do shout if you need help.”

The Doctor and Violet moved toward the door. The Doctor looked pointedly at the Master, who has been glowering dangerously in a chair since they had arrived.

“I. Am. Not. Leaving. Her.” The Master growled. The Doctor sighed again and looked at Violet, who nodded. The Doctor shrugged and the two left the room and closed the door behind them.

“I’m really fine,” Sam said gently. “Disgustingly dirty and dizzy, but fine.”

The Master strode across the room, leaning over her on the bed, arms on either side of her. “Why didn’t you say you were dizzy?” He demanded. “Do you realize you could have been killed?” His voice was desperate and as dark as a black hole.

Sam looked into his furious eyes and gently put a hand to his cheek. “Don’t scowl at me, I’m too used to it to be intimidated anymore.” She added, “And I really am fine. I’m not dead, and you don’t have to worry. We humans are stronger than you think.”

The Master kissed her, hard, as if he needed proof that she was really alive and in front of him. Sam wound her arms around his neck. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” she whispered. “I thought you weren’t going to make it out of that warehouse.”

Horrified, she realized that tears had sprung to her eyes. “And I really, really do need a shower,” she said, trying to recover some equilibrium.

She stood slowly, allowing the Master to help her to her feet. Suddenly a wave of dizziness overtook her and she swayed against him.

“Damn it!” He cursed, holding her firmly around the waist. “I’m not letting you go anywhere alone, especially the shower!”

Sam pressed her face into his shoulder, enjoying the strong, solid feel of him, and smiled. “Well, I mean, you could come, too.”

He stared at her. “Sam, you’ve hit your head. You’re dizzy. You’ve been attacked by an alien robot. I realize I’m not a shining example of good behavior, but even I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”

“What, so you’re a gentleman now?” She retorted. “I’m disappointed in you.”

The Master sighed. “I will help you into the shower, and make sure you stay upright. And that you don’t do anything stupidly human like fall and hit your head again. But _that’s it_. And then you will get right back into bed and rest.”

“My hero,” Sam rolled her eyes. She leaned into him as they made their way to the bathroom, which Sam was pleased to see was bright and attractive, and had an enormous shower.

Sam struggled to pull her shirt over her head, and the Master growled and quickly tugged it off. He pressed a rough kiss on her forehead as she held his shoulders for balance.

“Sam…” His voice was low and coarse. “I thought I’d lost you. I couldn’t see you anywhere in the smoke. Thank Gods for…” He broke off. “For the Doctor,” he whispered.

Sam grasped his head in her hand and pulled him down for a kiss. “You didn’t lose me,” she said quietly when they separated. ”And I didn’t lose you. I am so grateful. So grateful.”

The Master sighed deeply and quickly removed the remainder of their clothes. He turned on the shower and draped Sam’s arms over his shoulders, pulling her under the warm stream of water.

He reached for the soap, and gently massaged it into her scalp and skin. She was amazed at how gentle his touch was, and how calming. Yet she felt even dizzier than she had before, and braced herself against him.

“Shhh, it’s ok. I’ve got you,” he murmured softly as he turned her around under the water to rinse. She realized the soap from her own body was now all over his, and couldn’t resist her own efforts to clean him off, rubbing her hands against his chest, and lower. He hissed in a breath as she discovered that he was perhaps not as relaxed as he pretended to be.

“Sam, let’s just get you clean and into bed,” he said.

Sam chuckled as she wound one arm around his neck for support. “I bet that’s what you say to all the ladies.” She leaned in and licked the side of his neck. She felt a groan rumble in his chest.

“Gods, Sam, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“Yes, that sounds like an excellent idea,” she whispered into his ear. “Let’s take care of each other.” She reached up and captured his lips, and he ground down into hers, his composure slipping. She pushed her fingers into his hair and pulled him even closer.

Their water-slicked bodies met as she pushed herself against him. His skin was so hot, and he felt so solid. She yearned to be closer, to merge with him and be completely absorbed by this passion. She ran her fingernails down his back and he swore against her lips.

The Master tore his mouth from hers and stared into her eyes with an intensity that burned to her core. “Sam,” he ground out, “I can’t… wait.” And suddenly he was lifting her easily by the hips, plunging himself inside her as he pushed her back to the shower wall. She wrapped her legs around him as he held her up. _God, he is unnaturally strong_ , she thought.

And then she didn’t think anything at all, as he moved inside her, heat and pleasure searing inside of her until she could not stand it any longer. She bit his shoulder, hard, as she exploded around him, and heard his ecstatic shout into her hair as he poured himself inside her.

They stood there for a long moment, water raining down over them, her legs still wrapped around him. His breathing impossibly heavy, she didn’t know how he didn’t drop her or collapse.

She felt rather than saw him turn off the water with one hand, still holding her, and felt a large towel wrapped around her back. He carried her to the bed, lay her down, and curled around her, pulling the heavy blanket over them both. He moved her damp hair out of the way and kissed the back of her neck tenderly. She felt the comfort of the bed and the softness of his hand as he pressed it to her forehead. “Sleep,” he murmured.


	11. Chapter 11

Sam woke up to find herself alone. She knew she had not been sleeping for very long, and yet she felt incredibly refreshed. _Damn him_ , she thought, _mind tricks again_. She sighed. It was hard to be angry at the bastard when everything he did was so… _helpful_. And then some, Sam blushed at the memory.

She threw on her clothes, which were miraculously cleaned and folded, and wandered out to the control room. The Doctor and the Master were arguing in quiet but intense voices in the corner. She heard snippets from the Doctor, like “Kill them all?” and “Not right!” and a number of unrepeatable words from the Master.

She sighed, and went to stand next to Violet, who was on the opposite side of the room from the two men, trying to appear as if she wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Well,” Violet said, “the Osminog were well and truly burned up—not _quite_ the Doctor’s plan, I don’t think—and it looks like we’re in the clear, at least for now.” She paused. “The Doctor doesn’t approve of unnecessary killing. He also… doesn’t approve of the Master generally. It’s hard for him to believe he’s actually not a danger anymore. Or, I mean, he seems to be _less_ dangerous, anyway.” Violet looked doubtful.

“I can’t tell if they’re friends or enemies,” Sam said.

“More like brothers, I think. Brothers who are always fighting. I mean, before the Master… changed, or whatever happened, I think they were usually fighting against each other for their lives. But now… Well, I guess it’s just habit. They’ll get over it. Or at least, the Master will get over it now. It sounds like the Doctor will have to wait a while. I don’t know, I can never keep it all straight.”

“Time Lords are a pain in the ass,” Sam said.

“Tell me about it.”

They waited in a companionable silence as the hushed argument wound down.

“Sam,” Violet cleared her throat. “There’s a lot to see out there. In the universe, I mean. There’s so much, you can’t imagine.” She paused for a moment. “The Doctor said he repaired the Master’s TARDIS with some spare parts from his own.”

Sam felt the bottom drop out of her stomach. The Master would never stay on Earth if he could escape. Not for a stupid human. Not even for her.

“If he… well,” Violet continued, “If the Master offers to take you with him, and if he can, you know, avoid, um, destroying everything… You should go with him.”

Sam glanced over at the Master, who was staring at her intently, as if he could read her thoughts. _You’d better not be, creep_ , she thought.  

“Well, we’re off!” The Doctor exclaimed from across the room, apparently over his previous anger. “Not exactly how I’d planned, but best laid plans and all that, I guess!” He shot a last dark look at the Master. “Anyway, things to do, planets to save, stars to see!”

Violet laughed and walked over to him. “Well, what are we waiting for?” She took the Doctor’s hand and they made their way to the door together.

Violet turned to Sam. “I hope to see you again soon, friend. Maybe somewhere a little… different?” She smiled and then the two were out the door.

Sam stood awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the Master. “Violet said your TARDIS is fixed now. You can leave Earth. Go anywhere in space and time, I guess.”

“Oh yes,” replied the Master with a little too much enthusiasm for Sam’s taste, “I’ll be leaving just as soon as she recharges. It will take a few hours. I might not want to cause universal destruction and chaos anymore, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to hang out on this little planet longer than I have to.”

“Oh,” Sam said with as much dignity as she could muster. She felt something breaking apart inside her. “So, I’ll just be going, then. Leave you to it.” She began backing toward the door.

The Master was in front of her before she could take another breath. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He growled. He grabbed her shoulders, then dropped them and stepped back. If Sam didn’t know better she would have thought he looked uncertain, even… scared.

“I thought…” The Master swallowed hard. “I assumed... you would come with me. Do you not want to?” He closed his eyes. “I know I’m a bastard. I always will be. This is who I am, evil or not. But I thought… I told you, _I_ am your Time Lord. I am _yours_.”

Sam stepped up to him and wound her arms around his neck. “You are an idiot,” she said. The Master looked at her, and she saw confusion and hurt in his eyes. “Stupid man! You’re an idiot because you forgot one important thing.”

“What’s that?” The Master asked gruffly.

“You forgot to ask me to go with you, creep!” Sam all but shouted. And then she kissed him.

Some minutes later, the Master raised his head and looked into Sam’s eyes. She felt as though he could see straight into her soul. “You’ll come with me, then? Really?” He asked softly. Sam smiled at how vulnerable he looked. She knew that all of this was him: his villainous past and his, well, _challenging_ personality. But also his vulnerability and deep protectiveness of those he cared for. Protectiveness of her. Creepy man, but _her_ dear, sweet, not-completely-evil creep.

“Of course,” Sam replied. “I really can’t imagine my life without you. Jerk.” She added for good measure. “But you said we have a few hours before we can take off? Maybe we should keep ourselves busy in the meantime.”

“Well, yes, we do have a little time,” he smiled smugly, and offered Sam his arm. “Shall we?”

Sam grinned up at him. “I thought you’d never ask!”


End file.
